


Magnet Poetry

by Destial



Series: Domesticity 'verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Het, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-19
Updated: 2010-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:58:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destial/pseuds/Destial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the most ridiculous thing he's ever done. But, if he can't be ridiculous for his girlfriend, when can he be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnet Poetry

  
**Author:** [](http://destial.livejournal.com/profile)[**destial**](http://destial.livejournal.com/)

Dean had, of course, noticed when the fridge was suddenly covered in magnets. It would have been impossible not to, with how often he's standing in front of it. But he'd never really _noticed_ them until today, when he slams the freezer door shut, frustrated – that he had to move, that no one told him Sam was alive, that there's nothing appetizing in the freezer (which is just proof that a year of civilian life has spoiled him, seeing as the freezer is half full). As the door slams, even cushioned by the magnetic strips lining it, one little magnet shakes loose and falls to the ground, upside down, beside his left foot.

Dean picks it up, frustration giving way to curiosity. He didn't actually know what the magnets looked like, come to think of it. This one is a small rectangle made of that thin, weak sheet magnet that wouldn't even hold anything to the fridge. He turns it over and the other side is glossy and red, black letters spelling out "sunny."

He glances up at the freezer and they're all words. Most of them are scattered around the edges, pushed to the sides and in what he assumes is complete disarray. Except for a small group in the middle, the only clear space. In the middle there are fourteen little magnet words all in different colors, lined up in three rows.

on a ______ day  
I get up and go to work  
wishing to be out

  
Dean frowns at the words, not really sure what the point is, but slots "sunny" in between "a" and "day."

"Are you messing with my haiku?"

Lisa is in the doorway, scowling at him, but he can tell she wants to smile.

"Why is there a haiku on the fridge?" he counters with.

She shrugs, coming to stand beside him so they're shoulder to shoulder (well, shoulder to mid upper arm) and stares at the poem, a thoughtful look on her face.

"I found them when we unpacked," Lisa says, pushing aside her haiku and scanning the other words, picking them out one by one with such concentration, he kind of wants to kiss her.

Dean doesn't, though, because he also kind of wants to see what she puts up. It's silly – a little absurd, in Dean's opinion, and completely useless – but he remembers his mother teaching him to read with letter blocks and words that they taped up on the walls. He remembers his mother helping him rearrange them to tell a story, about his dad, his mom, but usually Sammy, in those last few months. He knows exactly why she has these. So instead of kissing her, Dean shifts behind her, wrapping his arms around Lisa's waist and leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder.

Lisa shoots him and amused look and stills, arms stretched out and fingers splayed on either side of her new poem.

special man came home  
back to me and back to him  
we love him very much

  
"Lisa," Dean says and damn it if his voice doesn't crack.

Lisa twists in his arms, then, pressing her mouth to his.

"It's true," she says against his lips, looking him in the eye. "Don't argue, because it's true."

"Okay," he responds, but it's muffled and comes out as a grunt. It's oddly comfortable, kissing Lisa like this. It's barely a more than just a press of lips against each other and he never kisses with his eyes open. It's too much, too intense, too familiar. Dean may not have grown up believing in religion, but he knows his superstitions and he knows which ones are true. You really can see a person's soul when you looked them in the eye. That's why demons' eyes changed, that's why angels' eyes glowed when they get snuffed out. The soul bleeds out, just a little, through the eye.

He is surprised to realize he wants to look into Lisa, even if he's not so sure about her looking into him. It isn't something he'd ever thought of, before, seeing someone's soul.

It's a long time before either wants to move.

* * *

Sam calls the next night. He expects Dean to drop everything and come, like some dog that's been called to heel. Dean has to, –

After Dean shows Lisa how to use a gun – something he'd never, _ever_ wanted in her hands – he heads through the kitchen towards the garage.

The fridge catches his eye and Dean barely thinks before he's moving towards it.

He feels dumb and clumsy as he picks out the little magnets with his big fingers. Lisa used her nails but Dean doesn't have nails like that and he keeps dropping them. And he feels stupid – –

But, if he can't be ridiculous for his girlfriend, when can he be?

* * *

girl is more special  
gave the man a second chance  
taught him how to love


End file.
